TRP: Azriel, Nixie, and Mishka (Blackmail)
Coyote: Night 159, I guess. Mishka is enemies with the Minister of Coin, Nobert Covington. When Covington throws a party at his manor, Mishka sends Sugar in his place. Azriel-- a simple bard-- is there. Mishka's plans usually had a lot of steps. Like, a lot of steps. But this time he left more of it up to her-- just gave her the basic outline. That was good. Sugar was good with outlines. She got to the party just around nine, just like Mishka said. The manor was packed with drunk nobles, drunk merchants, and servants pretending they weren't drunk. She was careful to dress in a way that made her look pretty and useless, but was actually practical-- she wore a short thigh-length dress with black breeches underneath, good for fast movement. Goro suggested she wear a long-sleeved dress so she could strap daggers to her arms. Goro was smart. She wore her golden bangles and jewelry, too-- the kind Mishka had enchanted to go silent when she wanted. When she arrived, she immediately went to the booze table and selected something. Mishka said she ought to appear drunk. Izzy: Azriel was extremely good at ingratiating himself with people who thought they knew better. It was a delicate balance of seeming just competent enough, just deceptive enough, but letting them peek behind the curtain just a touch, so that they thought they had the advantage over him. Of course, what they didn't spot was was that behind the curtain was a second curtain. There were many curtains. He tried to decide if this metaphor was absurd or simply stupid as he played a lovely, unobtrusive melody from where he'd posted up by a statue -- out of the way but clearly serving some purpose, just another piece of furniture, except that this one made a pretty sound. He'd gotten his viol refinished, finally, to make up for the time spent in the woods, on the run and such, in order to make himself presentable for a function such as this. Both of his horns were fitted with gold caps, hiding the fact that one was broken -- a web of delicate golden chains laced between them with tiny gems sprinkled in. Fireball beads, in actuality, but they too looked unobtrusive and lovely to the untrained eye. He let his song fade out, and the handful of guests who had been paying attention clapped politely before going back to their quiet conversation. He bowed needlessly low, with a flourish that hid him stretching his wrists. Across the room, another bard took up the job, summoning illusory fireflies from her cello. Azriel was not, in fact, here to play music, and his mark had arrived. Find out what she's here for, he'd been told, and keep her from doing it. He was, quite frankly, amazing at being an inconvenience; he mussed up his hair slightly and slipped his viol onto his back, and sauntered up to self-serve bar next to her with a calculated abruptness. "Hello, darling." He let his words slur together a bit. "I love your bangles," he said, and plucked at one, horribly rudely. "Wherever did you find them?" Coyote: Sugar looked at him, wide-eyed. She took a long drink of her drink. Wow, this was way better than pirate swill. Way better. It was something called a margarita, apparently, and it tasted like sugared strawberries. "I bought them from a jeweler," she said, blinking at him. Well. Actually. She's bought the first few from a jeweler, then after that people just kept giving them to her. People were nice. Sugar liked them. Izzy: Azriel fought the urge to squint at her. She ... was the right person -- pink tiefling, white hair. Sorceress, he'd been told. He'd been told she was dangerous. He moved into her personal space a bit more, and reached out to fiddle with her bracelets again, idly, to see if she would react. "Well, yes, I suppose the alternative would be that you stole them from a jeweler, wouldn't it?" He laughed. "I'm asking which one, love. They're divine. I need some just like them." The more he looked at them, the more he was, in fact, charmed. They would match his golden rings, and the horn caps. He looked up from them to meet her big blue eyes and smiled. Coyote: "Oh. You know. Howard's. The really shady one?" Her eyes were wide, still. "Mishka says Howard's has the best jewelry because they steal it from people. Also, I told them I knew the jewelry was stolen so he had to give it to me for less. Mishka says criminals can't complain to the police." She drained her drink. She looked around for the person who had given it to her. Huh. This was a self-serve bar, it looked like? She wondered who'd made this one. That was weird. Wow this guy was drunk. Izzy: His smile was locked onto his face. Yes, she was definitely the right person -- Mikhail Haeth's apprentice. Just ... talking about him, openly, and about stolen jewelry and how he'd coached her on acquiring it. She'd just gotten here. Was she drunk already? (Azriel absolutely knew Howard's, but it wouldn't do to admit that.) "Oh, how scandalous." He widened his eyes at her, still playing with her bracelets. He wondered if he could slip one off without her noticing, but it probably wasn't worth the risk. "Stolen goods. Hm, they call them 'hot', don't they, when they're like that?" Then he glanced at the bar. "Would you like me to make you a fresh drink, darling?" Coyote: "I'll let you make me a drink if you tell me your name." Izzy: He gave a small gasp and rested a hand briefly over his heart. "Goodness, yes, of course. How rude of me." He lifted the hand that had been playing with her jewelry and held it out. "I'm Eliot Khole. And you?" Coyote: She cocked her head. "You can call me Sugar." She took his hand. It felt surprisingly delicate. She'd spotted him playing the viol earlier, but his fingers didn't have calluses the same way most bards did. "Hey. Your hands are awfully soft. Shouldn't your fingers have, like, calluses from playing that instrument all the time?" Izzy: He dipped down to kiss her hand, giving her a small curtsey and using the movement to scan over her outfit -- largely practical as well as stylish, but high-heeled boots. She must be terribly short without them, he thought fleetingly, but more importantly, it told him she wasn't intending to run anywhere. He wondered if she could teleport. Her mentor was known for that. Hmm. He straightened, smile fully in place. "Oh, I appreciate you noticing." He tapped his fingers against his thumb. "I soak them in aloe vera. I despise calluses." Actually he'd been letting it slip, since leaving Moorland. His hands were still soft, but not as smooth as they'd been once. Interesting that she had noticed it. Then he slipped around the bar and scanned over the bottles for whatever had the highest alcohol content. Maybe he could just get her too drunk to do whatever Haeth had sent her here for. She seemed like a bit of a lightweight. "What's your poison, love?" January 6, 2019 Coyote: "Oh. Um. I don't know? I mostly just had, like, rum and grog growing up. And honestly I didn't like it that much." She made a face. She'd liked the sweet wines Mishka had given her, though. "I like sweet things." She started looking around for the Minister of Coin. Norbert Covington was a tall, thin human man. He sat with a few courtiers on a couch in the corner of the room.(edited) Izzy: "Hmm." He trailed his fingers along the row of bottles, watching her, catching her eyes land on the minister. "Sugar likes sweet things. Charming. Sugar, darling --" he leaned across the bar to touch the underside of her chin with two fingers, directing her attention back to him -- "tell me, are you a betting woman, by chance?" Coyote: Sugar watched him a moment, face propped on her hand. She liked the way he touched the bottles: all graceful, like he thought about each movement before did it. He seemed self-conscious, in a way. Not... insecure, more like... on-guard. Conscious of everything he did and what it meant. Curious. Sugar glanced at the Minister again. Mishka had said, I'll disguise myself as one of the courtiers and get him wasted. You do the rest. She couldn't lie very well, which was why Mishka had to do the disguise part. Sugar just had to do the other part. She supposed she had another ten or fifteen minutes. "Okay," she said, looking back at Azriel. "What's the bet?" Izzy: "I'll bet you that I can make a drink with rum that you'll enjoy, and if I win, you have to sit and drink a couple with me." Coyote: "Oh," Sugar said. "No." She kept her hand propped up on the counter, though, smiling at him. Izzy: "Just one, then." Coyote: "You can make me the drink with rum and I'll drink it," Sugar said. Izzy: He sighed and pouted slightly. "But will you drink it with me? Or is your plan to merely cruelly use me for my bartending skills, and then abandon me?" Coyote: She kept smiling at him. "I mean, probably." Her tail lashed. She liked him. He was odd. Something about him reminded her of Mishka. It seemed like he was wearing a false layer on top, somehow. Maybe she was wrong, though. It was funny, and interesting. Sugar liked taking things apart and seeing how they worked. "I'm working right now," she said. "You can make me a drink, but I have to go. I'll meet you some other time." Izzy: He grinned at her. Amusingly honest. "Hmm. Well, I'm quite heartbroken, but I suppose as long as you speak to me later, I'll recover." He started gathering up what he needed to make a daiquiri, taking his time. She'd been drinking something pink when he'd walked up -- he was guessing strawberry. "Working, are you?" Professionals, he wanted to tell her, only pretended to drink on the job, and they didn't let strange men make them drinks. But that would quite defeat the purpose of him striking up a conversation with her in the first place. "What does someone as sweet as sugar do for a living, then?" January 7, 2019 Coyote: Huh. He was going awfully slow about that drink. Maybe he wasn’t very good at making them. “Oh,” she said. “I’m a professional adventurer. Y’know that Diva thing? We killed that. Me and um. The others. It’s neat. We have roles, you know.” She watched the people around them before turning back to him. “My role is just, um. Killing things, normally.” Izzy: "Oh. The plague?" He widened his eyes as if he hadn't been told this, and paused and leaned closer to her. "I wasn't in Skyport then. Sounded terribly frightening. The stories you must have." Coyote: Hmm. Still no drink. Huh. You know, something about this guy... something about this guy seemed off. Shady. She frowned at him for a long moment. “Hey, I have to go do something,” she said. “I won’t be back. I like you. You seem shady, though.” She stood up. Izzy: Shit. He was losing her. He recalculated and changed his method, dodging around the bar and in front of her. "Hey. Wait." He'd dropped the saccharine drunken cluelessness from his voice, lowered the pitch. "Listen, love, I'm here to work as well. Sorry about the act -- was just trying to feel you out a bit before I asked, but my people told me you're here to kill darling Norbert over there." Complete fabrication, of course. He was fishing. "I'm here for the same. We can work together." Coyote: Sugar’s eyes widened, and she stopped dead. She looked at him. “You are?” She looked around again. She was fairly sure Mishka was the young human man resting on the couch; he was playing with a small fidget top someone had given him for Candlenights in one hand, listening and nodding intently at The Minister. “Oh gosh, no,” she said. “You can’t kill him. I need to rob him first.” Izzy: The thoughtful hmm was quite genuine, but he spun it to be for a different reason. "Well, perhaps I could help you, first. Or, well --." He cut his eyes away, then looked back to her in concern. "You're not attempting to rob the Minister of Coin by yourself, are you? You ... do already have some sort of plan, some sort of team?" Coyote: Sugar cocked her head and smiled. “You know, I’ve found that if you walk into most places and look like you know what you’re doing, people don’t pay much attention to you,” she said. It was a test, anyway. Mishka had said: Do your best, and get as far as you can. If you get caught, pretend to be drunk. She started to walk off again, then paused. Without looking back, she said, “D’you wanna see?” Izzy: He smiled at her slowly. "Do you know, I've found the same thing." Fascinating, really. He'd been told to find out what she was doing and stop her, but he had already been paid -- handsomely, as well. If he was outsmarted, and unable to stop her after all, well, she was Mishka Haeth's apprentice, and who was he, again? Absolutely no one. He dropped back and slipped his viol around. "I would simply love to watch you work, sweetheart." He caught the Minister's eye and started playing the song that meant danger. leave. Coyote: She kept looking at him for a long moment, thinking. She couldn’t help smiling. This was either a bad idea or a terrible one, but— It’d be fun. “Okay,” she said. Her mouth tugged up again. “You’ll have to stop playing your instrument, though.” She went towards the nearest exit to the ballroom. She brushed passed a guard who let her go without speaking and stepped into a long hallway with thick red carpet. Her bangles stopped jangling and made no noise and she padded down the hall.(edited) Izzy: Azriel glanced Covington's way again, making sure he'd received the message, and loosed illusory will-o-wisps from his bow to signal to the cellist that he was departing -- she nodded and took up the song without a beat being missed, and he shifted his viol onto his back again to follow Sugar out into the hallway. "Is your name really Sugar?" he asked quietly, mostly curious if she would just tell him, as she'd just told him other things. January 11, 2019 Coyote: at 9:28 PM "Oh. No, it's not," Sugar said, and kept walking. A thought struck her, and she stopped dead. She looked back at him, eyes wide again. "Is your name really Eliot?" Izzy: at 9:31 PM He put a hand on his chest delicately and deadpanned, "You wound me." January 12, 2019 Coyote: at 10:45 AM She looked at him a long moment. Huh, she thought. She couldn't tell if he was lying at all, but that was normal. She usually couldn't. She turned and kept walking. She wondered if she ought to let anyone see her do what she was doing... then dismissed it. It hardly mattered. It'd work out. She kept walking down the hall. The door, she knew, was two hallways down on the left side. Green door. Nondescript. Mishka had given her the key. Should be easy. Quick. Izzy: at 7:15 PM He blinked at her and shrugged to himself once she'd turned away. That was ... that, then, he supposed. He followed after her, humming softly. January 14, 2019 Coyote: at 4:17 PM Sugar found the room with little trouble. She was no thief, but she already knew where it was. She unlocked the door. If anyone asked, she was drunk and had gotten lost. Honestly, Mishka over-complicated things sometimes. What were they going to do if she was caught wandering about? Toss her out? It’d be fine. The door led to a study. The bard kept following her, watching her curiously but doing nothing. It’d occurred to her a couple times he might try to stop her or something. He hardly looked like a killer, though, and Sugar didn’t actually care about getting caught. Suppose he called for the guards. What was he going to say? This girl seems suspicious, I think she’s going to do something? Yes, Mishka over-complicated things. Sugar began checking around the study. Mishka said it would be here. She fingered through the books on the shelf, then began opening drawers in the desk. “Can you tell me if anyone’s coming, do you suppose?” Izzy: at 4:37 PM Azriel watched her, staying near the doorway, head tilted. "I certainly could. Very sharp ears. I could also help you look, if you tell me what you're searching for -- same time and everything. And while I'm at it, I'll even cover for us if we get caught." He moved further into the room, appraising it. Bound to be plenty of valuable tidbits in here. He was more interested in finding out the target than anything, at this point. "Many talents, you know, darling." Coyote: at 4:51 PM Sugar kept looking. There was something funny about this one— she could tell— but she liked him. She supposed she shouldn’t let him hang around like this, but... She didn’t mind if things got fucked up. And she didn’t mind losing or being exposed. Mishka always told her to be more cautious, but why? Things always turned out just fine for her. They had a tendency to do that. She supposed she was lucky. Some people were born with common sense; some people were born with street smarts; Sugar survived through a combination of sheer luck and blasting power. Kelpie always told her she had a tendency to fall out of the frying pan, into the fire, only somehow the fire mysteriously blew out and there was always someone waiting to help her up. Sugar paused inside the desk. There was a leather-bound journal inside a drawer. Then, beneath that, a false bottom. She popped it open with the tip of her dagger. Inside the desk was a second book with a green leather cover. She flipped through them. She took them. There was a golden pocket watch inside the desk, too. Sugar stared at it for a long time, turning it over in her fingers, then nodded, satisfied. She hid it in her sash, supposing no one would find it there. She took the books and carried them by hand in plain sight, but made sure the odd watch was hidden. Just in case. “I’m good,” she said. “Thank you, though. That’s all I needed.” She patted where the watch was. Izzy: at 5:26 PM He just kept watching, neither helping nor hindering, a bit amused. A couple of books. Goodness knew what might be in them, coming from dear old Norbert's desk. Such a shame Azriel hadn't been able to stop her, but, well, Mishka Haeth was a very powerful sorcerer, and his apprentice certainly outclassed a simple bard such as himself. "Fascinating. Is life always this easy for you?" he commented, continuing to tag along. He started to offer to hold her spoils, but that would probably look quite suspicious. Coyote: at 9:05 PM “Oh,” Sugar said. “No. Sometimes I have to, like, you know, blast people. But that’s okay. People really over-complicate things. Honestly, you can get through, like, ninety percent of social interactions just by pretending you know what you’re doing. It’s amazing. People are real naïve.” A guard followed them a ways back. Watching her shiftily. Sugar began heading towards the back exit. She had what she came for. Time to go. It was a servant’s entrance, so it was small and unguarded. The guard following them, however, caught up to them. “Hey. You. Fucker. I saw you walk out of that room. What’ve you got?” Sugar blinked, eyes wide. She set the books down on the nearby table. “Got?” “Yeah, right,” the guard grumbled. He began patting her down. He paused when he reached her sash, then reached in. Pulled out the odd pocketwatch. He squinted at it. Opened it. Just a regular pocketwatch. He eyed Sugar, then gave it back and continued patting her down. Nothing. Grudgingly, he stepped back. Then he looked at Azriel. “Aren’t you part of the entertainment?” Izzy: at 9:21 PM Azriel dropped into a somewhat mockingly low bow, then straightened. "I certainly am, friend, but I'm officially off the clock. My associate with the cello has things quite handled. I'm afraid some things came up that I simply must attend to." He tilted his head towards Sugar slightly and winked. Coyote: at 9:25 PM Sugar smiled helplessly, then quickly looked away. Ah. He was charming. Ah, damn it. He was cute and charming. Maybe she shouldn't have let him follow her. No-- no, it was fine. The guard grumbled. He started to step forward to pat Azriel down, then stopped and waved his hand. "It's too late for this shit. You're just the entertainment. Get lost. And if you're going to bang the guests, do it somewhere else. Have some class." He let them go through the door. Sugar grabbed her books and led them out into the night air.(edited) Izzy: at 9:47 PM "I'll thank you not to speak in such ways in front of my lady friend," Azriel said haughtily, but only once they were on their way out, nearly touching Sugar's back as if he were the one leading her away. Then, out of earshot, he snorted to himself quietly. Immediately thought, ah, not a very classy sound to make, but this was what Skyport had done to him. Given him rough edges and little calluses on his finger pads. Ah well. He flexed his fingers. "Well, do tell me then, what have I just been an accomplice to the theft of, love?" He smiled at her. "Or don't tell me. I am a gentleman." Coyote: at 9:52 PM Sugar smiled at him. "A pocketwatch and two books." Then she chuckled and said, "I'm sorry. I can't tell you. That would ruin the, um, blackmail. If we told people what we were blackmailing the Minister about, it'd get out, and then we wouldn't be able to blackmail him anymore... Oh. I shouldn't have told you that. Um, nevermind." The books were ledgers. The Minister's personal ledgers. She knew that much. The Minister of Coin was embezzling money from the royal treasury of Skyport. The books would show it. The royal accounting records were carefully doctored. They wouldn't show the money getting stolen. They wouldn't show the accounting irregularities. But the Minister's personal ledger... the ones he kept for his own person coin... they'd show money coming in unaccounted for. A lot of money. She'd hand the books over to Mishka, and he'd take it from here. She knew he had a bigger plan beyond that. She just wasn't sure what it was yet. Izzy: at 10:01 PM "Oh, not to worry, darling. My lips are sealed." Ah, there was a comment about not kissing and telling in here, but he bit it back. Blackmail, was it? No big surprise. He did love a good blackmailing, and he wasn't entirely fond of Norbert, if he was being honest. Rather tight-fisted for his liking. Coyote: at 10:18 PM Mishka waited on the edge of the garden. He sat in the shadow of a nearby statue, smoking a cigarette while he waited. Sugar was pretty sure he could’ve just gotten the ledgers himself, but he’d probably wanted to test her or something. See how she’d go about getting them. He raised a hand as Sugar approached. Then he glanced at the purple tiefling and raised his eyebrows. “Sweetheart. You brought a friend, I see. This is, ah, unexpected.” “Oh yeah,” Sugar said. “This, um, guy started following me? He’s very friendly. He was part of the entertainment. I figure he’s either totally harmless or a bad guy. I can’t tell at all, so I figured I’d just let him follow me until I brought him to you. Then I thought you could handle it.” Mishka looked at Azriel for a long moment. He clenched his hand and envisioned holding Azriel in place. Fastening his feet in place, locking his hands and arms down. He left the rest, though. He didn’t paralyze the tiefling’s tongue or his torso. He wanted the man to be able to talk. Mishka got off the statue and stood up. He put his cigarette out. “Sugar, run along home.” Izzy: at 10:27 PM Ah. Unfortunate. Azriel felt he should have seen this coming. Well, he had, a bit. Just figured it wouldn't be too much of a problem, if it did go this way. He was very good at what he did, after all. Certainly Mishka Haeth had the potential to be a deeply terrifying person, but that meant he could be a deeply terrifying ally, as well. Or casual acquaintance. Azriel was good at making himself useful, too, and who knew when being able to call in a teeny tiny favor from such a man might come in handy? He hummed a disappointed little tune Sugar's way. "You do break my heart, darling. Will you let me make you another drink sometime?" He flashed Mishka a sharp-toothed smile. "I can service all sorts of taste preferences, you know." Coyote: at 10:32 PM Sugar glanced at Azriel over her should, blinking at him. "I mean, I would. But you might be dead if Mishka kills you." "Sweetheart," Mishka said. "Make sure the ledgers get home. Take them to where we agreed, please. The safe, hidden place I told you about." "Yes, Mishka." Sugar rearranged her clothes, then went trotting off towards the stables where her horse was. Mishka checked around. It was dark here in this little corner. The tiefling could scream, but he hadn't yet. That was interesting. "Service all sorts of preferences," Mishka said, amused. "You make it too easy. I like a bit more of a challenge." He circled around the tiefling, checking him for weapons. Likely some kind of spellcaster. He could still cast spells, since Mishka had not paralyzed his tongue. But if he started to cast something, Mishka could just crack away.(edited) Izzy: at 10:40 PM Azriel turned his head slightly, watching Mishka, subtly testing the reach of the holding spell. A bit concerning, what Sugar had said, but she seemed the blithe sort, in general. Refreshing, really. Didn't mean she thought that was the most likely option. (Didn't mean she didn't, either.) "Well, if you like what you see," he commented, "I'm sure I could put up a bit of a struggle for you. Make things interesting." There was no way Azriel could go toe-to-toe with him, magically-speaking, but he could put on a good show of 'letting' Mishka win. A smidgeon more focus-less casting wouldn't kill him. Probably not, anyway. Coyote: at 10:44 PM Mishka started to smile against his will. "That's fucking adorable. I hope I don't have to kill you. You're charming, little demon child." He sat down at the foot of the statue again, crossing his legs. "Well? Convince me not to. Who are you?" Izzy: at 10:49 PM Azriel decided to fucking push it. "I'm but a simple tiefling bard, love," he said, wide-eyed. "Nobody important. No one would miss me if you whisked me away somewhere and had your way with me. Promise." Coyote: at 10:58 PM "Oh. That's a pity. I'm not particularly interested in simple bards." Izzy: at 10:58 PM "No? Maybe you haven't met the right one, yet." He tilted his head. Coyote: at 11:09 PM Mishka moved a little closer. He touched the tiefling's chin delicately, tilting his face. Mishka examined him, then lightly touched the scar on his cheek. Interesting. Mishka dropped his hand. "Do you have a name? No, let me rephrase that. What would you like me to call you, little bard?" Izzy: at 11:16 PM His gut wanted him to twitch away, but he ignored it, as he routinely did, and let Mishka manipulate him, leaned slightly into the touch until it was pulled away. Sugar had been easy to lie to, but he suspected Mishka Haeth was considerably less oblivious than his pupil. Eliott was a drab name, anyway. "Azriel. I must admit, I did lie to dear Sugar about it," he said conspiratorially, "but I'm not certain what kind of a name 'Sugar' is, either, so I don't feel too badly about it, if I'm honest. Which I am, on occasion," he added, brightly. Coyote: at 11:28 PM Huh. Mishka studied him. There was a small ripple of tension when Mishka touched him-- and then he leaned in, slightly. Almost like he'd been taught to. A courtier, Mishka thought. Or some kind of criminal. Or both. Fascinating. "Azriel," he said. "That's fairly fancy for a fake name, don't you think? You may call me Mishka." He thought about making a joke-- As long as I have you paralyzed, you can call me sir. Then decided not to. "So Nixie doesn't know if you're a good guy or a bad guy, she says," Mishka said mockingly. "You're so very friendly. You were following her around. You're so very interested in what she's doing. So helpful and inquisitive."(edited) Izzy: at 11:38 PM Azriel gave his absolute toothiest grin. "I always love to help a lonely gentleman or lady in need. I did ask her if she'd come stag, but she avoided the question." Nixie, was it? Still odd. Quite pretty, though. Interesting. "Didn't intend to step on toes -- I can share." Coyote: at 11:42 PM "Sweetheart, that's my apprentice. She's nineteen," Mishka said. "I like men. Don't mistake me. I don't take advantage of naïve teenager girls." Then he he waited a beat and said, "You, though..." And he gave Azriel a long look up and down. Izzy: at 11:48 PM "Oh, do go on." He felt the magic slipping off of him -- wondered if Mishka could feel it, as well. He could make a run for it, and he considered that Mishka might even let him. At least for a bit, just to chase him. There was probably no real point in trying, so he stayed where he was, anyway, until it suited him to struggle. "Me, though ...?" he prompted innocently. Coyote: at 11:57 PM Mishka's eyes lingered on him. He didn't answer. Just tweaked Azriel's nose. "So why exactly are you following my apprentice? Idle curiosity? You should really rein that in. Something dangerous could happen to you." January 15, 2019 Izzy: at 12:13 AM "Mm, dreadful thought, yes," he said lowly, all in his throat. "Someone dangerous could happen to me." Then he shrugged, slightly, not outside of the bounds of the spell that had held him, and made his voice lighter again. "She's a fascinating young woman. Walked right in and told me she was going to rob the Minister. I couldn't just wander off after that, could I?" Coyote: at 12:28 AM "A strange woman robbing the place while everyone is drunk?" Mishka said. "Surely a simple and honest bard would go find the guards and turn her in. Or was the idea of getting into trouble just too alluring for you?" Then he waved his hand and said, "Look, I fuckin' love standing here and bullshit-flirting with you. It's great, frankly. If you're trying to distract me, it's working. I fuckin' love to talk. You got me. But I'm mildly concerned that-- at some point-- I'm going to lose my grip on you, and then you'll go scurrying off. Tell you what, little koshka. I've thought it over, and cutting your throat and leaving you to bleed out would be messy. You're fuckin' adorable, you know that? I like that. I'll let you live. But in return..." He touched the scar on Azriel's face. "In turn, you need to do me a favor," he said. And tweaked Azriel's nose. Izzy: at 12:43 AM "I never said I was an honest bard," Azriel said, dramatizing offense, and raising both hands over his heart to show that he was already free of the spell, and not going anywhere. "What favor would that be, then, love? You should know I've done terrible things for the sake of a pretty face." Coyote: at 8:27 AM Mishka smiled and took a step back. “Well, this favor is hardly complicated. Just pass along a message for me. Tell the Minister I want to have a drink with him. I’ve found some irregularities in the royal treasury— money not where it should be. Doubtless it’s some kind of accounting error, but... I think he and I ought to discuss it.” Izzy: at 10:03 AM "The scandal." He picked up on Mishka stepping away from him. Curious. He could step in, to say no, I'm not done, I'm not afraid, -- which would be a lie, but he was good at lying -- but he took his own very small half step back instead. Not for his own comfort; just to put them on even ground. Norbert wouldn't be pleased with him for not preventing this from happening, but honestly, who gave a shit. Seemed he'd be either out of a job soon enough anyway, or in Mishka's pocket, and they'd be in the same boat then, if Azriel had anything to say about it. "I'll let him know," he said. "I assume he has some way of getting in touch with you for that drink, which, frankly, makes me quite jealous." Coyote: at 8:49 PM Ideas flickered through Mishka's head. Mishka had a number of ways to suss out a person's motivations. His favorite method, though, was offering them thirty minutes of his time-- or offering them a favor-- and then seeing what they did with it. Maybe they wanted to ally with him. Maybe they needed his power for something. Maybe they wanted to fuck him. Maybe they wanted to lead him into a trap and kill him. He couldn't think of any excuse to give Azriel thirty minutes of his time, though, and no excuse to pretend to owe him a favor. Pity. "Tell him to meet me at the Silverlit Inn," Mishka said. "I'm there every Tuesday around seven. Old habit." It was subtle. Not an invitation, just information: If you want something from me, this is where you can find me, and when. Putting the ball in Azriel's court. What an adorable little tiefling. Mishka was curious-- and frankly, he was bored of playing with Erasmus. Erasmus was sweet, and careful, and entertaining, but... maybe Mishka would enjoy a different kind of distraction. He wanted to put a hand on Azriel's cheek again just to see if he'd lean in. He was... weirdly fucking curious. Mishka had energy to burn off. Izzy: at 9:26 PM Silverlit Inn. Azriel didn't know it; he committed the name to memory. Tuesdays, seven o'clock. Maybe Larkin would be familiar with the place -- maybe he'd take her there on a Monday, scout it out. Mentally mark the exits, and such. Was that something she would enjoy? Well, if nothing else she would enjoy -- (Distracting. Very distracting woman.) (There were many distracting and varyingly terrifying people in Skyport, it seemed.) "Oh, of course. I'll relay the message." I'm very good at doing what I'm told would be his usual line, but if Mishka enjoyed a challenge, he could play that game, as well. The tricky part was knowing whether Mishka was hooked, whether he would only be fucking himself over if he escaped now. He slipped his hands into his waistcoat pockets and tilted his head, humming quietly. "That spell you used on me before -- that was quite interesting. You should try it again." Coyote: at 9:52 PM Mishka had started to turn away, but he paused. He shot Azriel an amused look over his shoulder. What a little whore. Mishka was inclined to teach him a lesson. Teach him not to flirt with dangerous men. Lure him somewhere private. Maybe neutral ground-- like a room at the Silverlit Inn. Somewhere Azriel could hypothetically feel safe. Somewhere Mishka could trick him into letting his guard down. Maybe Azriel would let Mishka tie him up. That'd be delicious. And once Azriel was good and still, once he was completely restrained, once no one knew where he was and he was essentially at Mishka's mercy... then he could hold a knife at Azriel's throat and start asking him questions. Who exactly are you working for? Why are you interested in me? "Maybe next time," Mishka said. "I prefer rope, honestly. It's more entertaining that way. I think I'd like to watch you struggle." And then he walked away.(edited) Izzy: at 10:09 PM Hm. Unfortunate. Well, Azriel did love to gamble, but that meant he lost sometimes, of course. He watched Mishka go for a moment, then turned to walk in the opposite direction. Rope, was it? That could be a problem for him. He'd hoped Mishka would try the holding spell again, and he'd whistle a little tune and counterspell it -- it had been enough time since his adventure with Larkin that he could risk it, he thought. That was another gamble, of course. Might have made him keel over and gush blood from his face, which wouldn't have been very charming at all. Or maybe Mishka liked a little blood. He'd find out. Ropes, though. That was no good. He couldn't magic his way out of ropes -- maybe he needed to learn a new song. Or maybe Larkin could show him, firsthand. Ah, he missed her -- it would be fun to tell her about all this. Could hardly share with his siblings that Mishka Haeth had half-promised to tie him up. He rubbed at his wrists as the adrenaline wore off, and he walked, and considered how easily that could have gone very badly for him. Deep breaths. He needed to get home. END Title: Blackmail. Summary: Azriel meets Nixie at a party being thrown by the Minister of Coin, and is a passive accomplice to her stealing his secret ledgers. She leads him back to Mishka, and Dangerous Flirting ensues. Category:Text Roleplay